


The Storybookvengers: Little Red Iron Man

by alphera



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Barebacking (in the woods), Basically: cracky pwp, Crack, Knotting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphera/pseuds/alphera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is either very bored or very pissed at Thor. Either way, the Avengers suffer for it. Wherein Tony is Little Red Riding Hood, Pepper is his mother, and Cap is the big (BIG) not-so-bad wolf. Coulson and Fury are in it too – guess who they are in the story?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Storybookvengers: Little Red Iron Man

The first thing Tony notices is that he’s wearing the Iron Man helmet with the faceplate up and none of the other pieces of his armour. It makes for a curious experience, because honestly, it’s not like he’s ever decided to wear just the helmet. Thank god it’s lightweight, or else his head would be on the ground and he’d look like an ostrich trying to bury its head with every attempt to stand. Unfortunately, the ability to lift his head is poor compensation for it being both stupid-looking and deeply uncomfortable. At least even his libido can’t keep his cock interested in this setting, regardless of whatever he’d been doing just one minute ago, because otherwise this’d probably be more embarrassing than it already is.  
  
He experiences a brief moment of panic when the helmet refuses to come off, and is greatly relieved when it just decides to puff away. Unfortunately, the loose red shirt and white boxers he is wearing (frankly, he’s not even sure he _owns_ any red shirts or white boxers, so maybe it’s a good thing) decide to go away too.  
  
So here he is, in an unfamiliar, quaint little cottage, in his birthday suit (which is not so bad considering the last thing he remembers before appearing here is being naked and in the middle of sex with Steve, so yay natural state?). He thinks that this is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to him – and that’s saying a hell of a lot – when these _clothes_ suddenly jump out of a closet to assault him. Despite Tony’s best efforts to keep them away, it doesn’t even take two minutes before he’s dressed in a little red hood, a white peasant blouse with a black corset, a fluffy red multi-layered skirt, and knee-high socks – all of them resisting all attempts at removal. The quaint black Mary Janes are polite enough to lay docile by his feet, waiting for him to step into them himself.  
  
This is officially hands down the most bizarre – and _wrong_ – dream he’s ever had. And considering he’s Tony Stark, and that he’s had quite the adventurous (read: trippy) college years, this is really, truly, saying a lot. At least he’s hoping it’s a dream, even if it means that he randomly nodded off whilst getting ready to have Steve up his ass, because otherwise…  
  
Sadly, the pinch-test proves that it is not, in fact, a dream. Tony blames Loki. And Thor, because Loki only ever brings out the crazy brain-breaking shit when Thor’s done something to irritate him (or more accurately: hurt his evil demi-godly feelings). Tony is going to blow them up when this is over. He was getting laid, for fuck’s sake. Can’t they have waited a bit until he’d finished at least?  
  
And simply because this is Tony Stark’s life, it is in the middle of these thoughts that Pepper comes in, wearing something that can only be described as ‘mediaeval-chic’. Tony thinks it is totally unfair how Pepper gets to have a floor length skirt when he’s stuck with this poofy monstrosity. To Pepper’s credit, she doesn’t actually laugh crazily at the sight of Tony. Unfortunately, that’s probably a testament to how Tony’s led his life so far.  
  
“Just so we’re clear, I’d like to state that I am, in fact, innocent.” Tony says.  
  
Pepper rolls her eyes. “We’ll see.”  
  
Evidently, Pepper believes in being efficient in any role – including, apparently, being Little Red Riding Tony’s mom. She frowns disapprovingly at Tony when he relates his earlier clothing adventure (“I think that was the initial attempt at getting your clothes to match the tale, and when you took off your helmet, you just pissed our narrator off.”), shoves a wicker basket (with helicarrier plans – Tony has a bad feeling who grandma will be) into Tony’s hands, and promptly boots him out of the cottage with instructions to stay on the path and not talk to _any_ stray animals, even if they sing and dance and spew nanotech.  
  
So, with no other choice, Tony resigns himself and walks onwards towards grandmother’s house. Because he is Tony Stark, and it seems like fun, he decides to start literally skipping along merrily after a mile or two. And promptly stops when he sees a flash of golden tail in the bushes. There’s only one guy Tony can think of that’d end up a golden-furred wolf in this oddball reality, and he can’t _wait_ to see the entire package. Maybe he’ll even lay off his plans to attempt a double count of Norse-deicide. Maybe. Depends on how this goes.  
  
“You might as well come out, Steve. I can see your tail from here.” Tony shouts. And nearly falls over flat on his (admittedly wonderful) ass when Steve emerges from the bushes.  
  
Steve is shirtless, like those werewolves from that stupid vampire movie with the _sparkles_ , with a nice set of wolf-ears and a fluffy wolf-tail, both a shade or two darker than the hair on his head. His skin is glistening with sweat, and he’s blushing bright red. God, it’s like seeing a weird Japanese porn vid with a virgin werewolf. Except better. Much, much, better. Tony takes a step closer. Steve’s tail wags, and his ears visibly perk up. Tony smiles a lewd, lewd smile. Steve’s tail wags even harder. Thank God. It looks like he’s still getting laid today after all.  
  
“Why Steve, it seems you’re happy to see me.” Tony says with a lecherous grin, and Steve turns even redder. The tail just keeps going faster and faster though, and Tony can see Steve’s happy in more ways than one. This universe is turning out to be a top ten rather than a bottom ten. Tony keeps a predatory smile on his face and looks coquettishly through his lashes up at Cap.  
  
“Like what you see, Steve?” He asks, and Tony barely has time to register the flash of canines in that luscious mouth when suddenly there is 200-pound of wolf-man pouncing on him. Tony just loves it when Steve goes all possessive-caveman-lusty at him.  
  
Of course, Tony thinks as Steve wastes no time shoving his hands under the crazy tiny skirt Tony’s been forced to wear. Steve isn’t usually so… _forward_ even after he’s gotten Tony pinned under him. It usually takes a little more _persuasion_ from Tony to really get Steve to let go. Maybe the wolf-thing extends to more than the fluffy tail and the nice ears and the canines. Not that Tony’s complaining. Not. At. All.  
  
Steve squeezes Tony’s ass proprietarily and attacks (there’s really no other word for it) Tony’s mouth. His hot tongue thrusts mercilessly into Tony’s mouth and he nibbles lightly on swollen lips, careful of his currently-sharp teeth.  
  
Tony groans and it drives Steve crazy. Steve growls and moves down to nip at Tony’s jaw, his hands working themselves underneath Tony’s underwear, the hand on his ass pulling the red lace even tighter against Tony’s hard cock. The solid warmth of Steve’s hand and the sheer anticipation is driving Tony crazy – his hardness leaks pre-cum and darkens the lace. Tony wraps his arms around Steve’s glorious naked chest and clutches at Steve’s shoulders in a futile effort to regain some equilibrium. His interrupted arousal is coming back full force, and with interest.  
  
“Steve,” Tony gasps as Steve finally lets go of one butt-cheek to palm at Tony’s dick. “Steve, we have to move.”  
  
They are in a fucking dirt path in a fucking goddamn fairy tale. All it’d take is one random horseman and Tony’d have dust in places he’d really rather not have them in, thank you very much. The woods are barely better, but it’s not like they’re actually going to be able to stop at this point. Tony would rather have grass itching at him than dust up his ass and the crease of his thighs.  
  
Steve snarls grumpily – actually _snarls_ , oh Tony is _loving_ this – when Tony pulls away, and grabs at Tony, lifting him off the ground before running into the forest. Tony hangs on – arms and legs wound tight around Steve’s sweaty torso – for dear life.  
  
Steve sets Tony down surprisingly gently (yes, surprisingly, because what’s Tony to expect after the pouncing and the growling and the snarling?) on the grass, and nuzzles plaintively at Tony’s throat. Looks like Steve’s gentlemanliness trumps animal instinct. That’s exactly what Steve normally does when he thinks he’s been a little too rough – just with a little less teeth.  
  
“I’m good.” Tony says, running a hand along Steve’s back soothingly.  
  
Steve doesn’t answer, just nuzzles at Tony’s neck like the 200-pound puppy that he is. Tony thinks it’s sweet, how affectionate Steve gets sometimes. However, ‘sweet’ is not exactly where Tony wants to take this. He’s already been denied an opportunity to orgasm once this day, and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen a second time. So he thrusts up against Steve, feels Steve’s erection twitch in response, and Steve retaliates by growling and biting down on Tony’s shoulder, hard.  
  
Tony moans. Steve always tries so hard to be gentle, that when he gets like this – rough and raw and primal – it always drives Tony absolutely crazy. He loves Steve and all the ways Steve makes love to him, but seeing Steve so open and uncontrolled lights the fire in him brighter, faster, stronger, and more intensely than ever.  
  
“Sorry,” Steve says, voice a little rough but not actually apologetic, and he licks and sucks at the marks he's left on Tony’s skin. “That’s gonna show for a while.”  
  
Steve pulls back and catches Tony’s eyes, his baby blues intense and focused. Then slowly, deliberately, he bends down to touch his lips to Tony’s neck and promptly sucks a bruise there, too, where everyone will see it.  
  
“Fuck.” Tony swears, thrusting up against Steve, desperate for friction. Steve grunts and thrusts back, trailing his mouth down to leave another mark on Tony’s collarbone.  
  
Steve kisses Tony hard as he pulls at Tony’s corset in frustration; Steve growls a little and proceeds to tear the ribbons keeping it together when they refuse to come off. Tony is hopelessly turned on by it. Steve pulls at Tony’s white top fruitlessly, and Tony disengages for a moment to pull it over his head before Steve tears it apart too. While he’s at it, he unzips the ridiculous skirt and kicks it off with his lacy underwear. Tony can’t be bothered to take off the socks, and Steve doesn’t seem to mind, if his impatient pounce on Tony is anything to go by.  
  
Steve nibbles on the skin below Tony’s ear, and Tony reaches down to palm at the bulge in Steve’s pants. Steve moans, and Tony unzips the jeans, but Steve grabs his wrists before he can slide them off of Steve.  
  
Well, this is new. Steve has always let Tony undress him before. Tony is very interested in finding out how this will pan out.  
  
“Hands off.” Steve says, pinning Tony’s wrists above his head with one hand. He nips at Tony’s ear and buries his nose in the skin behind it, breathing deeply. “God, you smell so good.”  
  
Tony shivers at the statement. Steve takes another deep breath, apparently trying to inhale every bit of Tony that he can.  
  
“I can smell so much more of you.” Steve moans. “All these little things that I could normally just barely grasp. And I can smell your arousal, your excitement. God, Tony, it’s insane.”  
  
Tony thinks that Steve just _sniffing_ him shouldn’t be hot, but his libido obviously disagrees. He moans and wiggles as Steve trails his nose down Tony’s body, not kissing or biting or licking – just smelling. Steve lets go of Tony’s wrists when he starts following the dark trail of hair leading to Tony’s crotch. Tony grabs at Steve’s hair, desperate for something to hold on to. His hands brush against the fur of Steve’s ears, and Steve lets out a truly filthy moan. Tony feels the vibration from Steve’s mouth against the crease of his thigh, and he strokes the soft fur, intent on driving Steve as lust-crazy as him. Steve’s hair is thick and soft, and the fur on the ears is even softer, and the ears twitch against his hand. Tony scratches at the base of an ear when Steve moves inward towards the base of his balls and plants a kiss there. Steve lets out a satisfied hum.  
  
Tony isn’t ashamed to admit his eyes cross a little when Steve opens his mouth and sucks at Tony’s dick. Steve rolls Tony’s balls in his hand and strokes the shaft as he sucks on the tip, blue eyes open and flickering between Tony’s dick and face. The sight is unbearably hot, and it’s a struggle for Tony not to thrust up into Steve’s mouth or pull Steve down to take him all the way. Steve likes to control the pace of fellatio, and Tony rushing Steve would just make him go slower out of spite. So Tony whines and curses but stays as still as he can, like a good little boy, and hopes Steve hurries up.  
  
Steve does pick up the pace soon enough, but not the way Tony expects. Steve slides one hand under Tony, at the small of his back, and lifts him up a little. He pulls off of Tony’s cock to lick his fingers and slides two into Tony’s ass, and promptly goes back to licking and sucking at Tony’s cock.  
  
“God,” Tony gasps, but the rest of his sentence cuts off into a drawn out moan when Steve rubs teasingly against his prostate and licks a stripe on the underside of Tony’s cock, from base to tip. This is, Tony realizes, exactly what they were doing when they suddenly got hijacked into this world; except he had more fingers in his ass, a comfy bed to lie back on, and a pump bottle of lube on the bedside table.  
  
“That’s it.” Tony groans as Steve presses at his prostate and rubs. He’s pressing small kisses on Tony’s cock, lapping at Tony’s balls and the base of his member, and it’s driving Tony insane. He’s acutely reminded that he was just one thrust away from Steve up his ass just half an hour ago. He pulls at Steve’s hair, urging Steve to come up, desperate to do it now before any chance of interruption presents itself this time.  
  
Steve doesn’t resist, just crawls up Tony’s body and plunders Tony’s mouth, and when Tony tries to sneak his hands inside Steve’s underwear Steve doesn’t even break the kiss to grab his wrists and hold them over his head.  
  
“Don’t.” Steve says when he finally breaks for air and grinds his hips against Tony. He brings Tony’s wrists together and holds them down with one hand, using the other to push his pants down. Sadly, Tony doesn’t get a glimpse of Steve’s cock because Steve presses a kiss on the underside of Tony’s jaw, forcing Tony’s head up. Tony can feel Steve wriggling and can tell he’s shimmying out of his underwear, but Steve is biting and licking under Tony’s chin and makes it impossible for Tony to look.  
  
Finally, gloriously, Tony feels Steve’s cock, big and heavy,, pressed against his thigh, and sighs loudly in bliss. Oddly, Steve feels a little... bigger, but Steve’s pressed even closer and Tony can’t move his head down, so he can’t confirm if it’s true. It might just be the desperation playing tricks on his mind. He’s about to die of frustration, and Tony pants against Steve’s ear and thrusts desperately at Steve. “Steve, come on. I’ve been ready since before we got here. I was so ready for you when we got interrupted, we’re fine. Please. Oh god almighty _please_. I need you in me, filling me. Come on come on come _on_.”  
  
Steve groans, loud and long, and practically nails Tony to the floor with how hard he’s thrusting back. It’s obvious he wants it too, so Tony can’t understand why he just won’t do it. It’s not like they haven’t done this before – anal, bareback, etc.  
  
“It’s not that,” Steve pants, as he obviously struggles to contain himself, “I have... right now, I have a knot, Tony.”  
  
Tony moans at this announcement and swears for a moment that he sees white. Suddenly it makes sense. The oddness Tony’s been feeling when Steve rubs against him, why Steve hasn’t been letting Tony touch, or even _see_. And damn if the thought of Steve swelling, leaving him in place inside Tony even after they’ve climaxed isn’t driving Tony completely crazy right now. He didn’t think it was even possible to get more desperately aroused than he already was just a second ago, and then Steve just reveals that little tidbit. “Sweet mother of fuck. God, Steve. Fuck. That. You cannot believe how hot that is right now. Steve, just. Please. I can take it. I swear to god I can.”  
  
It doesn’t take Steve long to get over his hesitation. Possibly Tony’s incoherent chants of “knot”, “fucking hot”, and “I’d die if you don’t do it” have something to do with it.  
  
Growling, Steve turns Tony to face the ground, laying Tony’s discarded top and corset on the grass underneath them. Tony braces himself on his elbows and knees and looks over his shoulder at Steve. “So considerate,” Tony pants, “Now, come fucking _on_.”  
  
Steve puts one hand on Tony’s hip to help hold Tony up, and uses the other hand to guide himself into Tony’s ass. Their moans put porn videos to shame. Steve thrusts until Tony can feel the start of the knot, and pulls himself almost completely out before thrusting back in to the same point, and Tony pushes back, urging Steve to go in all the way. Steve’s movements become progressively more uncontrolled and erratic, and Tony can feel Steve’s chest rumble as he grunts and moans and presses kisses on Tony’s spine. Tony can tell when Steve’s at the end of his rope, and Tony pushes back at Steve’s next thrust, and Steve is finally, _finally_ in him, down to the swell of his knot, and Tony whimpers.  
  
Steve is by no means a small man, and the knot swells even larger when it’s in. Tony moans and bears down on it. It’s a little uncomfortable, but Tony doesn’t mind. Steve’s hitched breaths and the long moan he lets out when he’s all the way in fires Tony up. The feel of Steve filling him completely and the thought of the two of them _inseparable_ these few moments more than make up for any discomfort. Steve snakes one hand around Tony’s dick and strokes roughly, and it doesn’t take more than a couple of seconds before Tony comes undone completely, his semen exploding out of him onto the corset and grass. Through the haze of his own orgasm, Tony feels Steve start; feels the flood of Steve’s release fill him, and he feels unbearably full. Tony feels his dick give a slight twitch and doesn’t doubt that he’d be hard again if it was only physically possible.  
  
When Steve’s done, he grunts and rolls them over, so that Steve is on his back on the ground and Tony’s on top of him, before he turns boneless in relaxation. Steve presses languid kisses on Tony’s temple and strokes Tony’s hips and stomach.  
  
“God Tony, I love you.” Steve says, and Tony smiles and grabs one of Steve’s hands to press a kiss against it. “Love you too.” He answers, and threads their fingers together and lays their joined hands on his chest over the arc reactor.  
  
Tony isn’t aware of having fallen asleep, but he obviously has, as he wakes to the feel of Steve nibbling at his ear and stroking his left hip.  
  
“Wake up, Tony. We probably have to go and find everyone else.” Steve mumbles into Tony’s skin. Tony can practically feel Steve blushing. Really, there is no end to how cute he can be. Only Steve can pull off acting like a blushing maiden _after_ fucking Tony into the ground like a dog (or wolf) in heat.  
  
“Sure. Just... wait a while.” He answers, because as much as he’s enjoying this little adventure, he really misses boxers – the lacy panties itch like hell. And beds. Beds are wonderful things.  
  
There is no way to tell how long they take just laying there, not to mention the amount of time it takes to wait out the knot and how long Tony’s been asleep, but Tony suspects that it’s been a while, despite the fact that it doesn’t seem like nearly long enough. Steve and Tony clean up a bit in a nearby stream (they wipe down with Tony’s corset since it’s a lost cause) and straighten themselves out the best they can. Tony’s blouse is a little ragged, his petticoats have not managed to escape Tony’s spray of come earlier, and the various grass stains will probably never ever come off, but it’s not like Tony has an ounce of shame left in him. Debauched looks good on him, what has he got to hide?  
  
So they get on the path and march merrily along until the end – where _Grandma Fury_ is waiting outside his cottage. Tony is torn between laughing and getting scarred for life at the image of Nick Fury in a nightcap, nightgown, and a granny shawl.  
  
“You’re late.” Fury says, irritated, and man, Tony has to admit that even with the excess of floral print, Nick Fury is still a tough looking sonuva bitch. He’s a little jealous. “Where is my basket?”  
  
“Don’t get your granny panties in a twist, Fury, I’ve got it.”  
  
Fury’s visible eyebrow twitches when he looks inside. “Where are the tea and cakes?” he asks.  
  
“Sorry Nana, I’m just the messenger here.” Tony answers, shrugging.  
  
And because he is a soulless robot, Fury turns to Steve and says, “Go eat him, he’s a bad kid.”  
  
Steve turns beet red in 5 seconds flat because, Captain America or no, post-sex means his brain’s still swimming in the gutter.  
  
“Aww grandma, that hurt. Aren’t you supposed to love me most of all?” Tony asks, batting his lashes soulfully.  
  
Fury narrows his eye at Tony and opens his mouth to speak. Sadly, Tony doesn’t get to hear whatever Fury’s about to say, because this is the time Coulson magically appears from the bushes, hunting rifle in hand.  
  
“Does this mean I actually get to engage in battle with Captain America without a court-martial?” He asks Fury, and Tony swears there is a creepy little glint in his eye. Fury shrugs, uncaring, and Tony is a little afraid for Steve.  
  
“Sorry, busy here!” Tony says, grabs Steve, and drags the big man inside the house and into the bedroom. “I’ve got a million _experiments_ to try before this wears off.”  
  
“Stark! That is my house!” Fury yells and follows.  
  
“If we get stuck here forever,” Coulson remarks direly, as the din and shouting inside increase in volume. “I will blame you entirely, Stark.”  
  
*****  
  
=END LITTLE RED IRON MAN=  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
 **BONUS SCENE: AFTER CREDITS**  
  
When Tony wakes up after the world decides to literally go all swirly on them, he finds himself on his bed in the mansion, with Steve sprawled on top of him – tailless and with normal but still cute ears.  
  
“Awww. And I was just about to suggest we go and blow some pigs’ houses. I was looking forward to singing your theme song. _‘Who's afraid of the big bad Steve, the big bad Steve, the big bad Steve’_ ”  
  
“What?” Steve asks, because apparently he hasn’t seen _Three Little Pigs_ even if it was first aired in 1933.  
  
Tony grins. “ _‘Who's afraid of the big bad Steve, and his larger-than-normal-but-still-oddly-proportionally-sized peen.’_ ”  
  
Steve turns red all the way down his chest. Tony thinks it is just too adorable for words.  
  
Tony whistles the song for the next three weeks even after Steve stops turning red when he hears it. The Avengers (except Thor, who likes it and actually starts whistling with Tony) are not amused. Tony sets it as his ringtone for Steve, too, just because he can.  
  
(Upon inquiry, they find that the three little pigs are the fantastic four, with the exception of Johnny Storm. Loki insists that the missing ‘Torch is not his fault – the universe keeps claiming his presence will create even more existential identity issues than there already are.)  
  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
 **BONUS SCENE: DVD EXTRA**  
  
Honestly, Clint wasn’t to blame for Banner’s Hulk-out this time. It was a brownie house in the middle of the damned forest he and Natasha just found themselves in, and he was _hungry_ dammit.  
  
Sadly, the universe was unfair. Not only did Banner turn big green and vengeful faster than Clint could say ‘yum’, Natasha-the-evil-Gretel got to stay to eat the rest of the house. Sheesh, all she did was pet Hulk’s hair a little – how come she was allowed to eat with Hulk and Clint got thrown into the forest? Literally thrown too, mind you. Clint will have permanent marks where the suspender buckles dug in.  
  
Seriously. He was in a ridiculous outfit (and Clint refused touch the random urge to yodel with a ten foot pole, no siree. It was all the outfit’s fault. Clint saw it and the urge just bubbled up, okay?) and lost in a mystical fairy tale forest of some sort. Worst of all, he didn’t even get to take a bite out of the chocolate chip cookie door and the Pop Tart furniture.  
  
So there he was, ruminating on his sad lot in life, when he bumped into Coulson. He found himself flipped and on his face in ten seconds flat. It was a little embarrassing, but at least there were no witnesses.  
  
“Barton.” Coulson said, and released his (painful, painful) restraining hold on Clint’s arms.  
  
“Great god in heaven, Coulson. Go break my arms why don’t you.” Clint swore, getting up gingerly.  
  
Coulson had the gall to blink at Clint and dust his hands demurely. “Come on, they’re not broken.”  
  
Clint scowled, before all the fight in him abruptly left in an explosive sigh.  
  
“What’re you doing here anyway, Huntsman? Last I knew, Hansel and Gretel got themselves out fine on their own.”  
  
“I just came from outside the forest, where Little Red Riding Hood was.”  
  
“So. Seeing as the only girl on the team’s Gretel – who’s the unlucky sod? And the even more unfortunate bastard who drew grandma in the lots?”  
  
Coulson’s lip twitched. “I don’t think the Director will appreciate being called an unfortunate bastard, frilly nightcap or no.”  
  
Clint burst out in unrestrained laughter and clutched his stomach as tears trailed down his cheeks. “Man, that just made this whole thing worth it. Come on, let’s look for some way to get outta here. Meanwhile, you have _got_ to tell me the whole story.”  
  
And so they set off in search for a solution, talking and laughing (well, at least Clint was laughing. Coulson was a lot less obvious) on their way. And if their shoulders brushed while they were walking, and if their fingers touched as they conversed – well, no one was there to see but the trees swaying in the breeze.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So did I get the song stuck in your head too? XD It was stuck in mine for so long (since this idea wormed itself into my brain until after I posted it on LJ).
> 
> [Rougewinter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rougewinter) is completely to blame for the new lyrics Tony squishes into the melody instead of Tra la la la la. And the idea that Tony';d want to terrorise the pigs in the first place. Once again, in case I haven't been clear: this cracksanity? [rougewinter's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rougewinter) fault. Really. She even beta'd for me.
> 
> This actually started with Jeremy Renner and his role as Hansel in Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters. When we found this out, the first image that popped into our minds was Clint in [this](http://www.awise.org/files/productsimages/BS_C/37386.jpg), and somehow Tony ended up in there as Little Red and then everyone else butted in. Clint is half-annoyed and half-thankful that his part in the tale's been relegated to a measly bonus segment.
> 
> Tony's outfit looks something like [this](http://images.halloweencostumes.org/racy-red-riding-hood-zoom.jpg), except an actual shirt+corset+skirt+hood combo and not just one dress made to look like it's made of many parts. Also, not off-shoulder. And not a skirt made out of lace.
> 
> In case you need to boost the mental image of Fury in his grannywear, think [this](http://ourgrandmascloset.net/nite5sm.jpg), with matching [floral print](http://www.etreavis.com/acatalog/1443.jpg) and a [crochet triangle shawl](http://www.hiwtc.com/photo/products/13/02/46/24672.jpg).
> 
> Archived from [livejournal](http://alphera.livejournal.com).


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